Puzzle Cube
by Tasogare-Taichou
Summary: A companion piece to Dusty Gold, it can be considered a "sequel" of some sorts. This little oneshot explores Yuusuke's first real meeting with his mother, and how Yoruichi handles it.


Title: Puzzle-Cube  
Fandom: Bleach  
Characters: Shihouin Yoruichi, Urahara Yuusuke  
Rating: G  
Summary: A companion piece to Dusty Gold, for all those who were wondering whether I'd continue it any. Takes place about a year later, but references events in Dusty Gold, as well as Yuusuke's memories in Winter Violets.  
Disclaimer: Bleach and it's characters do not belong to me. However, Yuusuke DOES and I would prefer not to have to head-hunt anyone today for stealing him.

He'd never really thought much about the ramifications of that night, when he'd been pulled from sleep by the hazy terrors that plague most children from time to time. Walking through the silent hallways of the shop/house he'd lived in since he could remember -- it was his father's house, so that made sense -- his bare feet padding softly along the polished hardwoods with the nimble, almost catlike grace Yuusuke had always possessed. That was the first night he'd seen her, that dark-skinned, nearly feline shadow with the glowing eyes and ebon hair. He could remember it clearly, albeit with the somewhat starry-eyed wonder of 8 full years of life, the way she'd seemed nearly as startled as he to find a pair of dark golden eyes so matching his own staring back at him in surprise.

To her, he wasn't sure what his small self had been, but to Yuusuke, he'd been hard-pressed to look at her and believe that she was real and not some ethereal sprite sprung from the velvet midnight to tantalize his senses with muddled dreamings. The fact that, dream or not, she'd apparently been sharing a drink with his father only moments prior only served to add to the mysticism, because as far as he knew, spirits -- the sort you read about in books, not the real kind -- didn't eat or drink. It had all been something of a blur after that, as he'd blinked up at her sleepily, not quite sure whether to speak or even breathe. And then she'd smiled, a hesitant, almost shy smile that seemed out of place on her face, as though shyness was something she wasn't very well accquainted with, and stooped down to his level.

Breathing had ceased as those golden eyes peered into his own, and Yuusuke felt the seconds tick by indeterminably long before she'd cocked her head to the side and spoken, her contralto voice lilting and musical in an odd way to him, dropping one palm onto his head.

"You must be Yuusuke."

It had only been that single sentance, and then she'd smiled again and stood up, paying a nod to his father before she was gone with a breath of wind and the faint scent of trees and spice, melting into the night as seamlessly as she must have arrived from it's depths, Yuusuke left standing there in silent wonder at this creature who had flitted into his life like a darkly-painted butterfly.

He'd only learned later on, when he'd asked his father and his "uncle" Tessai about her, that he'd learned the truth. That the gilt-eyed and exotic woman with the mischievous nature was, in fact, his mother. As he'd listened to his father, watched the grey-blue eyes darken slightly with an emotion he knew was called "guilt", he hadn't felt any animosity. No shaft of betrayal at either the woman who had been absent for the first 8 years of his life, no anger towards the father who had kept the knowledge from him and dodged the questions he'd asked over the years about the female figure who made no impact on his daily existence.

Curled up in the crook of Kisuke's arm, dark skin contrasting as starkly with his father's pallor as that of his mother, ash-blonde head resting against soft green fabric, he'd drifted to sleep lulled by tales of his mother's exploits, of the past she and his father had shared and the risks they'd taken when pushed into a corner and left with no other options. Her life had become the stuff of legend to him, only intensified by the thought that, as she was his mother, the chances of one day actually meeting her were so much more real than that of meeting any of the other notable figures in his father's stories. Aizen Sousuke; the cunning traitor, Kurotsuchi Mayuri; the criminal turned scientist, Yamamoto-taichou; the stern-faced and strict head of the Gotei-13 of Soul Society. They were all fantastical and larger than life, but none so much as her. Shunshin Yoruichi. The Goddess of Flash.

By the time his 9th birthday had loomed on the horizon, Yuusuke's love of the stories that spilled forth from his father's whimsical mind hadn't diminished, though he'd come to understand a particular fact. That his mother was like him. A free spirit, not one to be tied down whether by bonds of kidou or bonds of blood and emotion. It was a fact that had come to him gradually, as the warmth of spring creeps into the chill of winter, and a fact that he had strangely accepted. And as he had come to accept that, the anxiety, the waiting up at night to see if she would show... had faded away. He'd come to understand, in the way that his father did, that she would come when she wanted to come, and that when she did, it would be as the wind through the trees. Fleeting, effervescent, and dancing with mercurial delight through their lives at her own whim.

That particular fact was perhaps the reason why it came as a sudden -- though pleasant -- surprise when, after the usual cake and the festivities that normally consisted of Jinta and Ururu fighting, his father having a few too many drinks, and a bowl of icecream being dumped onto someone's head, Yuusuke made his rather tired and over-stimulated way back down the hallway to the room that had been his since he was old enough , the room his father had told him -- after he'd learned about his mother -- had always been her favourite room when she would come and visit more often than she did now, to find the small lamp on his bedside table on, it's soft glow illuminating the dark ponytailed silhouette settled comfortably into the window embrasure.

She'd glanced up, shining gaze finding him with a momentary flash of shock and something he couldn't define, something that had perhaps even been fear, before her mouth had crooked in a small grin and she'd slipped off of the sill in a single fluid moment, walking over to him with a small wrapped package in one hand. Reaching down to ruffle his hair a bit, she'd plopped down on the side of his futon and held out the little box for him.

Silently, as though the faintest sound he made might break the illusion, frighten her away like a fey dove perched precariously on the eave of the roof, Yuusuke ventured foreward to sit down beside her, lantern eyes huge in his dark face as he reached out to take the little blue-wrapped package from her, cradling the parcel in his lap between his hands. He simply stared at it for a moment, almost in disbelief before turning his head to peer through longish ash-hued bangs at her.

"F..For me?"

Chuckling slightly, she nodded, leaning back to press palms flat against the covers, resting her weight on her arms as dark violet eyebrows raised in expectation, watching as her son fingered the dark navy ribbon tied around the box. She'd gotten some store to do it, this sort of thing wasn't really in her nature, so she hoped he wasn't about to go and be impressed by her handiwork. But then, he was also Kisuke's son, so she supposed it was only natural for him to want to study every little angle of anything he got his hands on. Mind-hungry, she'd called him once, when they were both young and innocent in that way that only childhood grants. He'd simply laughed at her and made some glib remark about how it was difficult for minds to feel hunger.

That had been decades ago, over a century now. Nodding her head towards the small boy sitting beside her, she shifted on the futon, unwilling to let the slight discomfort she felt at simply _being_ here show. Like it or not, he was hers. And while she wasn't about to settle down and be a mother to anyone, at least she could visit occasionally. Reaching around him, she gave the string a tug, loosening the complex knotwork of the bow.

"Of course it is. It's your birthday today, right?"

A silly question, really. She knew perfectly well when his birthday was, had predicted the date from the time she'd realized the outcome of being careless, something she and Kisuke had always been so careful _NOT_ to be. Eyes flickering back towards the opened window, she suppressed the sigh that rose up. Kisuke... He was the whole reason why Yuusuke existed in the first place, the whole reason why she hadn't just done what she would have done had it been anyone else. Shihouin Yoruichi had never wanted children, and she wasn't the sort to try and pretend that she had, or to sugarcoat things and make light of the fact that the child she DID have had been, in so many words, a mistake.

Kisuke had probably thought she'd lost her mind, especially given the number of times she'd sworn to him that if he wasn't careful, that if _they_ weren't careful, there was no way in hell that she was going through it. There were other options, she'd told him. And truly, she'd considered those options, weighed them heavily in her mind as she tried to measure them against the nagging thought that she couldn't shake. While the saying went "familiarity breeds contempt", she couldn't deny that while that may have been true, familiarity had also bred certain other things. Certain other attachments and thoughts and revelations that, regardless of the fact that she didn't WANT them, were there. And it was because of those things that she'd seen it through, even though she'd washed her hands of it in the end.

Attention drawn at the sound of the paper crumpling, she returned her gaze to Yuusuke as he unwrapped the blue wrapping, tracing small dark fingers across the polished wooden cube with it's intricate carvings, gold eyes wide in wonder. Allowing a smile to grace her face for a moment, she couldn't help the nostalgic ache at the sight.

_Heh, just like Kisuke when he gave that to me all those years ago. Idiot, like I would have any use for a puzzlebox. Especially after he spent so damned long carving the thing._

"It's a puzzlebox. Your.... dad... gave it to me a long time ago."

Turning the wooden cube over in his hands, Yuusuke gazed at the box in rapt interest, his eyes picking out the indentations in the carving, the faint lines where separations could be seen, where pieces would push or pull or twist when the correct pressure was applied to them. Rotating it around, he let one finger linger on the wide carved crest adorning one side, the double-layered cubes forming an 8-pointed star ornamented with smaller stars. Looking up at her, he cocked his head to the side.

"What's this on the side?"

It was harder than he'd thought, not to call her "mom", but for some reason he couldn't help but think that such a title would have broken the moment, would have changed something, put pressure where it didn't belong. Holding the box up for her to see, he waited for her explanation.

"That's the Shihouin family crest. Kisuke carved that into it, I think."

She watched, tossing her dark tail of hair back over her shoulder as the boy lowered his arm, once more cradling the box in his lap for a moment, his head lowered to study it, his entire posture striking her with it's similarities to his father. After a moment, he raised his head, eyes shining at her and the same wide grin on his face. It took all of her resolve to gulp back the sudden rush of unexpected emotion at the small face, so like the man she knew was listening from the other end of the hallway.

"Thank you! Thank you, it's the best present ever!"

Unsure how to respond, she managed a weak chuckle and awkwardly reached out to ruffle his thick blonde hair again before getting to her feet. She had already stayed long enough, any longer would make things difficult. Cracking another grin at him, she paused at the edge of the window for a moment, eyes studying him, taking in the image as though to cement in her mind the idea that it would be a while before she came back.

"Happy birthday, Yuusuke."

And with that, she turned and hopped out of the window, fading into the night again.


End file.
